More Range
We're friends with the one who kills us,
who gives us to the ocean waves. We
love this death. Only ingorance says,
Put if off a while, day after tomorrow.
Don't avoid the knife. This friend
only seems fierce, bringing your soul
more range, perching your falcon on a
cliff of the wind. Jesus on his cross,
Hallaj on his-those absurd killings
hold a secret. Cautious cynics know
what they're doing every moment and why.
Submit to love without thinking, as
the sun this morning rose recklessly
extinguishing our star-candle minds.
Rumi
We're friends with the one who kills us,
who gives us to the ocean waves. We
love this death. Only ingorance says,
Put if off a while, day after tomorrow.
Don't avoid the knife. This friend
only seems fierce, bringing your soul
more range, perching your falcon on a
cliff of the wind. Jesus on his cross,
Hallaj on his-those absurd killings
hold a secret. Cautious cynics know
what they're doing every moment and why.
Submit to love without thinking, as
the sun this morning rose recklessly
extinguishing our star-candle minds.
Rumi
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